


A Difficult Man to Like

by WorryinglyInnocent



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling, Anyelle, F/M, Military!Belle, Relationship Beginnings, Rushbelle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 22:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18765541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: Rushbelle. Dr Rush and Lieutenant French share a strange, somewhat volatile, friendship aboard Destiny.Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: “Captain and Lieutenant”





	A Difficult Man to Like

It was well-known throughout Destiny that if Colonel Young wanted to get Doctor Rush to do anything, the easiest way of getting the man to comply was to send the request through Lieutenant French. Early on in their stranding, some foolish people had made snide remarks along the lines of Rush not being able to resist orders from a pretty face, but since he treated all of the other female members of the military with the exact same contempt as he treated anyone else, that theory was quickly put to bed for fear of an impressive beat down from said Lieutenant French, who despite almost being too short to join the Air Force, was a complete powerhouse.

No, Rush did not like Lieutenant French any more than he liked anyone else on board Destiny. The difference was that he tolerated her presence and assistance, because prior to her posting on Icarus, and indeed during it, French had been a mechanic, and she had never lost her fascination for taking things apart and putting them back together again. She took every opportunity she could to nerd out over Destiny’s inner workings, and after several explosive arguments consisting of Rush lambasting French for touching bits of the ship that she shouldn’t and French countering that she’d fixed the thing, hadn’t she, Rush had begrudgingly accepted that French’s background in fixing state of the art jets and spacecraft would prove valuable in getting Destiny in working order. It was easier to have her onside than it was to fight her. As much as he wanted to be able to do everything by himself and discover things at his own pace, he’d realised that French was just as fascinated by Destiny as he was, and he knew that she would treat the ship with the appropriate reverence and respect that it deserved, unlike the rest of the military contingent, who just wanted to get off the ship as soon as possible.

She was loyal to Young, of course, and when it came to matters concerning their immediate survival, she would usually side with military over science, much to Rush’s disgust. When it came to matters regarding Destiny itself, however, she was at least willing to listen to what Rush had to say, and more often than not, she would agree with him. It had been useful to have her as a liaison, not that Rush would ever admit that to anyone, least of all to French herself.

They were sitting in one of the shuttles, attempting to make it operational again. Or rather, Rush was sitting in the pilot’s seat, running diagnostics with the help of a kino that Eli had sent out of an airlock, and French was somewhere on the floor behind him, so buried in electrical equipment that the only thing that could be seen of her was her boots. He’d be worried that she’d suffocated if it hadn’t been for the little off-key tune she was singing and the occasional clang of metal or fizz of electricity.

“How are you doing back there, French?”

“You of all people know that these things can’t be rushed, Rush.” There was a snort of laughter at the unintentional pun. “You’re always yelling at everyone to give you more time to solve a problem, so put your money where your mouth is for once and let me get on with it. Do you want to go for a joyride in this thing or not?”

“Lieutenant, I have absolutely no intention of going for a joyride. I just want to make sure that the shuttle is functional should we ever have to use it.”

“Oh.” French sounded rather disappointed and Rush couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. “You do realise that getting to fly this thing is the only reason I’m helping you right now, right?”

“And what, pray, would you be doing if you weren’t here, Lieutenant?”

French extricated herself from the wires and gave him a look. “Ok, you’ve got me there. I don’t have anything better to do and I’d rather do something interesting than die of boredom. Are you sure that we can’t go for a little spin around space?”

“We certainly can’t if you don’t fix the electrics, French.”

“Give me a break, Rush. It’s not like you’re doing anything to help. You’re just sitting there tap-tap-tapping on your little console. How do I know you’re not just playing minesweeper up there and making me do all the work?”

“You don’t. Do you want to fix this shuttle or not?”

French dived back into the wires, but if Rush thought that he was going to get any respite from her needling then he was going to be disappointed.

“You know, are you sure you’re not military?” French asked, before swearing as she caught a particularly lively live wire. “You sure like bossing people around enough to be a drill sergeant.”

“I’m good at giving orders. Not so great at taking them.”

“You’re telling me. I’m the one who has to act as a go between every time Young wants you to do something.”

“I’d noticed. It makes me wonder why you don’t tell him where to shove it. I wouldn’t put up with it if I were you.”

“That’s because you’re not in the Air Force and you’re used to not having to explain yourself to anyone and the concept of a chain of command is completely foreign to you.” It sounded like he’d touched a nerve, and for a moment Rush was quite glad he couldn’t see her face because French had one hell of a glare on her, one that was made scarier by the fact she had extensive firearms training. “You’re so certain that you know everything about everything that the mere thought of someone else having a different concept or a different way of doing things is so repulsive to you that you’ll do anything in your power to undermine it. God, sometimes I think you’d argue that the sky was green if Young said it was blue.”

“If you don’t like my working methods, French, then you’re welcome to leave.”

He ducked just in time to avoid the screwdriver that was thrown at his head. French had come out of the wires again and was giving him The Glare.

“Why are you like this?” she asked. “Why do you make it so hard for people to like you?”

“Because, Lieutenant French, I don’t give a crap whether people like me or not. Me playing happy families with the rest of the halfwits aboard this ship will do nothing for our longterm survival, nor that of Destiny herself.”

“One of these days someone’s going to shove you out of an airlock.”

Rush scoffed. “Please. You wouldn’t dare. You wouldn’t last two minutes without me.”

Hindsight told him that he probably shouldn’t have said that, as the spanner made hard contact with his groin before French stormed out of the shuttle, yelling over her shoulder.

“Fix it yourself, since you know everything there is to know about this fucking ship and the rest of us are complete morons in comparison to your superhuman intelligence.”

Rush sighed and grabbed the tools. If anything, French’s outburst had just proved his point exactly. If he wanted anything doing, he was going to have to do it himself.

All the same, as he took up the work where she’d left off, he found himself missing her chatter and her enthusiasm. Over the course of the shuttle work, they’d become what could almost be classed as friends. Well, at the very least, they weren’t enemies. Well. They hadn’t been until now.

He wondered if he should go after her, and then he wondered why he was wondering. French wasn’t worth his time; if she couldn’t get along with him then that was her problem, not his. All the same... She had been getting along with him. Right up until she hadn’t been.

He thought again about her words.

_Why are you like this? Why do you make it so hard for people to like you?_

His answer to her had been the truth, but there were moments like this when he couldn’t deny that it would be nice not to have to fight everyone all the time.

X

French didn’t come back to work on the shuttle with him for the next few days, and their interactions when their paths did cross on the ship were cool at best. Mostly, French was pointedly ignoring him and Rush wasn’t concerned enough about her opinion of him to care one way or the other, however much he might find himself missing her presence in the shuttle or in the console room, or wherever it was that he would normally find her fiddling with wires and wrenches.

It was only during their next drop out of FTL that things came to a head. French had been part of the planet-side expedition team. It was unusual for her to go, normally she stayed on Destiny preferring to fix things, but given her sudden antipathy towards doing anything that might possibly assist him, maybe it was not so strange for her desire to go and see the world that they had found this time.

Rush had not paid all that much attention to the planet, too focussed on other things beyond sending the usual instructions to bring back water, lime for the scrubbers, and anything edible. It was only once panicked voices were heard in the vicinity of the gate room that he really realised that something had evidently happened to the expedition, and with the countdown in full swing, the metallic taste of fear began to coat the back of his tongue. French was out there. What if something had happened to her?

He came over to Riley at the gate controls. “What’s going on?”

“There was a rock fall; some of the team are trapped. They’re trying to get them out now.”

The tension in the room was unbearable, but Rush couldn’t bring himself to leave. There were a hundred and one other things that required his attention, but in that moment, all he could think about was French. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave the gate room until he saw her back safely through the gate. Time was ticking, and he could barely bring himself to look at the countdown. There was radio silence from the away team, and Young was pacing up and down the room. The panicked voices had given way to quiet, with nothing that those left on Destiny could do to help.

At last, the event horizon pulsed out and the team staggered through the gate with just minutes to spare. They were covered in dust and bruises, but all in one piece, and TJ immediately started triaging people for what patching up they required. Rush peered through the gaggle of people, looking for French.

“French? French, are you ok?”

“Since when do you give a fuck about me, Rush?”

He whirled round to find French behind him, her arms crossed. Her fatigues were caked in rock salt and there was a small cut above her eyebrow dripping blood down onto her cheek. Despite the exhaustion in her eyes and the altogether sour expression on her face, Rush had never been so glad to see her.

“You’re all right!”

“Yeah, I’m all right. I had no idea you cared so much, Rush. Aren’t I just some stupid grunt who’s only good for following orders?”

“I never said that.”

“Oh yeah? Well we all know that I wouldn’t last two minutes without you, because of course I’m bloody dispensable and you’re God’s fucking gift to Destiny. Seriously, Rush, _since when did you give a fuck about whether I’m all right or not? You’ve made it perfectly clear that your life would continue completely unaffected if I’m not in it!”_

The silence in the gate room was deafening, all eyes turned towards them.

“I…”

For the first time, Rush had no idea how to respond. The things that she was throwing at him, he was fairly sure had never come up in conversation between them, so he had no idea where he was getting them from. He’d never said that his life would continue unaffected if she wasn’t it. Still, he wasn’t going to get into the details with so many spectators.

French shook her head, batting TJ away when she tried to apply a dressing to her face.

“You make it so hard for people to like you,” she muttered, before going over to Young for debrief, leaving Rush alone in the middle of the gate room, with half of Destiny’s crew gawping at him.

X

It was late in the day when Rush returned to the shuttle. His time had been taken up with other things, and it was only now that he had the opportunity to return to something important but marginally less pressing than everything else that demanded his attention.

He was surprised to find French already there, sitting cross legged on the floor as she untangled the mess of wires that she’d been buried beneath a few days prior.

“I thought you were off shift,” he began.

French nodded. “I am. This is a pet project though. Leisure time.”

“I admire your dedication.”

She looked up at him, and for the first time in too many days, she smiled. It was a tired smile; the plaster over her eyebrow didn’t do much to assist, but it was a smile and not a scowl, and certainly not the patented death glare. Rush thought back to the things that she had said in the gate room.

“Earlier…”

She rolled her eyes.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she said gently. “I want to like you, Rush. I already do, really. But you make it so bloody difficult for me to do it when it feels like every other sentence you say to me is dripping with contempt for everything that I am and everything that I stand for. I don’t think that you even know that you’re doing it sometimes. I have a great deal of respect for your intelligence and your problem-solving skills, and for your sheer downright tenacity. I like those qualities in you. But when you show no respect for me, I can’t help wondering why I bother. And then I remember the conversations we have in here, when you’re almost civil, and you talk about Destiny with such passion and I think that when we get it functioning again, you’d probably make a good captain. Captain Rush, off exploring the stars and learning the origins of the universe itself.”

“I’d like that,” Rush admitted.

“I know you would.” She put down the bundle of wires, now neatly cable-tied off. Where she’d got cable-ties from in Destiny was anyone’s guess, but Rush wasn’t going to knock it.

“French, I…” God, he wished he knew what to say, but he had no idea where French was even going with her speech. “I do respect you,” he finally finished. “Well. Most of the time. And more than anyone else we’ve got. I don’t know why I like you. But I do.”

“Well, that makes two of us.” She got up off the floor, closing the gap between them. “We should make the most of this moment, I’ll probably be yelling at you in two minutes.”

“Obviously. I can’t have a conversation with anyone without yelling being involved in some shape or form.”

French laughed, and then, unexpectedly, she darted forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Rush could only stare at her, gobsmacked, his fingers brushing over the place her lips had touched.

“If I was going to take the shuttle for a joyride and go and explore the stars, then I’d want to do it with you, Captain Rush,” she said. “Are you sure it’s completely off the cards?”

Rush shook his head. “I’m coming round to the idea.”

French’s smile was positively luminous, and Rush chanced to return the kiss, a clumsy effort on his part. He was glad when French took the lead, slanting her mouth firmly over his and slipping her arms around his middle. This was certainly not what he had anticipated when he had found her here in the shuttle, but he was definitely not complaining.

There was still so much left unsaid between them. French’s outburst in the gate room had not been properly addressed, but it could be put to the side for now. This was new, and unexpected, and he didn’t want it to stop. For the first time, he was beginning to see the concrete benefits to forming a good working relationship with French.

At length, she pulled away, as all good things must come to an end, and she gave a soft little laugh.

“Come on. Let’s fix this shuttle.”

It was a suggestion that Rush was all too happy to go along with.


End file.
